


Forbidden Fruit (You Wouldn't Understand)

by dustjacketduck



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crack, F/M, For the Glory of Fandom, High School Rivalry, romeo and juliet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 02:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustjacketduck/pseuds/dustjacketduck
Summary: The true star-crossed lovers of Trollhunters.





	Forbidden Fruit (You Wouldn't Understand)

_Two schools, both alike in dignity,_

_In fair Arcadia where we lay our scene…_

* * *

It all started because of the most anticipated football game of the year. The rivalry between Arcadia Oaks High School and Arcadia Oaks Academy was a thing of legend, formed upon a grudge that predated the memory of everyone involved, except for the AOHS history teacher, Walter Strickler, who was a centuries-old troll. Ever since the date of the showdown was announced at the beginning of the semester, students of both schools awaited the fated day with bated breath.

At long last, it was upon them.

The cheering in the gym was deafening. Students on the bleachers clapped and waved and hollered. A purple mole pranced around the room, and a red-faced Coach Lawrence yelled into the microphone in a useless attempt to calm the noise. The pep rally had turned into a irredeemable screamfest.

Darci Scott wasn’t lacking in school spirit. She would have liked to join her classmates in the collective destruction of their vocal cords, but she had a very important phone call to make, so here she was, pushed up against the wall with a finger in her ear. When Mary picked up, she could still barely hear anything.

“Where are you?” Darci asked. “You’re going to miss the game.”

Mary heaved a dramatic sigh. “It’s that time already? Ugh, I can hear the rally in the background. Sad hours seem so long.”

She must have been sad indeed to be noticeably absent from an all-school event such as this. Gossip was Mary Wang’s lifeblood. Darci took the bait and asked what was wrong, though she suspected she already knew the answer.

“Love.”

“This is about Logan, isn’t it.”

“It’s about love, Darci. _Love_. Don’t you see? I’ve lost myself; even if I were to come, I would not be there.”

“Uhh…”

“You understand nothing of love,” Mary moaned.

“Maybe, but can’t you forget him for just one afternoon? There’ll be tons of hot kids at the game--jocks, cheerleaders... basically everyone, actually. _Please_ , Mare.”

“Ugh, fine.”

* * *

 Arcadia Oaks High’s quarterback had been fixing his appearance in the bathroom for the past half hour. He gave the mirror his best smolder expression, brushed his golden hair into an angle of absolute perfection, and did it again.

The door swung open and a group of Academy students sauntered in. Their beady, judgmental eyes fixed on Steve, which he ignored, deciding he had too much dignity to stoop down to the level of consorting with these plebs, even when they started loudly snickering. Satisfied with how his hair looked, he flipped his collar--and saw something reflected behind him.

Steve whirled around. “Do you bite your thumb at me, _buttsnack_?”

“Nah, man,” said the student who had bitten his thumb. “But I do bite my thumb.”

“ _What_ was that? Did you just say you bite your thumb but not at me? That doesn’t make any sense.” He puffed his chest up, as one might do when confronted with a mountain lion. “Of _course_ you bite your thumb at me.”

“Are you trying to start a fight?” piped in one of the friends.

“What? Pfft, no way.”

Still, the boys had started circling each other, most definitely about to fight. Steve swung first; his fist flew past his opponent and slammed into the door of one of the stalls. He cursed loudly and prepped a second punch. Before he could let it go, though, the door swung open once again, revealing Señor Uhl.

“What is going on here?” he bellowed.

“Nothing.” Steve gave him a winning smile, but his eyes still narrowed suspiciously.

“Is this a fight?”

“No, no fight.”

“It better not be, or your lives shall pay for the forfeit of the peace. Mr. Palchuk, come with me.”

“In just a moment, Señor Uhl.” When the teacher left, he turned to the Arcadia Oaks Academy kids and mimed an explosion at them. “BOOM. We’re not done here. See you at halftime, plebs.”

* * *

 Sometimes, Mary thought her problem was just that she had too much love to fit in her heart. Health class had taught her that the human heart was the size of a fist, and that always seemed woefully inadequate for her needs. So, the obvious problem was that she had more than a fistful of love in her, but everyone else felt the need to restrict themselves.

Logan’s rejection stung, but Darci and Shannon were doing an admirable job trying to cheer her up. They bought soda and candy and bad stadium nachos. The game was actually going pretty good for the first two quarters. Mary had the vague feeling that Arcadia Oaks High might be winning, but more importantly, from where she was sitting, she was within eyeshot--and earshot--of everything juicy in the stadium.

At halftime, she got up to get some more Skittles, and possibly find someone to flirt with or somewhere with good lighting for selfies, and what she found instead was a fight.

She loved a good fight.

After sending a quick, excited text to her friends, she pushed through the throng of people circling the event--she was Mary Wang, after all, and deserved a front-row seat. The fight seemed to be between Steve Palchuk and some dude from the Academy whose name she didn’t know yet, but all that faded away as soon as she saw _him_.

It was love at first sight. There was no other way to describe the jolt that went through her the instant she laid her eyes upon him. _Love at first sight._ He wore the skinniest pair of skinny jeans Mary had ever seen, so tight it was a wonder he didn’t lose circulation. Not that she was complaining; quite the opposite, in fact.

Mary tapped the closest person on the shoulder. “What gentleman is that, which doth wear his jeans so very tight?” she asked, pointing at the boy in question.

“I don’t know.”

She swooned. “Did my heart love until now? Oh, I’ve never seen true beauty until this night!”

The person shot her a weird look, as you do when a fellow high schooler starts talking like they walked straight out of the sixteenth century, and proceeded to ignore her.

Like a hawk zeroing in on its prey, Mary’s tunnel vision kickstarted and she inched over the the boy with tight jeans. She sidled up to him, fitting comfortably inside his personal space--though the crowd provided her a nice excuse--and gave a quick, “hey,” to get his attention.

He met her eyes. “Hey back,” he said. “Exciting game, huh?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But I have to say, not the most interesting thing here.”

“You’re awfully blunt, aren’t you?”

She shrugged, wishing she had some gum in her mouth to casually pop. “I guess. The name’s Mary, by the way.”

“Hank.”

They fell into conversation easily from there, eventually slipping away from the ongoing fight so they could hear each other better. They stayed there all through the third quarter, and by the time the fourth rolled around, lips were doing as hands do and they were kissing.

“Mare!”

At the sound of Darci’s voice, Mary pulled away from Tight Jeans Hank, keeping a hand trailing on his chest. “That’s me. Looks like I’ve gotta run.”

Darci came into view and ran up to her. “Where have you been, girl? We’ve been looking everywhere. The sport is at it’s best, you don’t want to miss this.” As Mary was dragged away, she looked back at Tight Jeans Hank, making the _call me_ sign by her ear, and he nodded back. She grinned.

“Who was that?” Darci asked.

“Were you colluding with an Academy student?” Shannon asked.

“Is he from the Academy?” Mary cried, half anguish and half excitement. That somehow made him even _more_ appealing.

“Um, _yeah_.” Darci crossed her arms. “Duh. The colors he was wearing made it pretty obvious.”

“Why would I pay attention to that? I mean, did you _see_ how tight his jeans were?”

Darci buried her face in her hands.

**Author's Note:**

> I am the proud author of the first Mary Wang/Tight Jeans Hank fic on AO3.


End file.
